The annual sequester.
A letter in the mail came
to avoid the possibility of conversation.

Once a year I sit with
your husbands, wives and children
listening to your dreams and ambitions .

A well rehearsed sediment to put
the twinkle in a single shining star. You move
about preoccupied by the distraction of my presence.

A tiger in a cage pacing, back
and forth, speechless. But only listening
to the low pitched growl that yearns to escape.

You can not see the difference
between right and wrong. Hiding the truth
deep in your past, along with discernment.

Your personal gain
the latitude of your judgement.
The world has taught you to hate so well.

I have prayed for you on countless days
in hope that you'd seek the truth.
Forgive me my absence on this next Christmas day.

As I work in a kitchen set aside for the homeless,
Feeding the people hope, lingering strong
in the souls who know what loss is.

I will uplift and strengthen
 my resolve in the eyes of disparity.
The distraught people of my community,

wounded spirits seeking Grace,
the comfort of Jesus Christ.
I will pray for you once again.

That your soul cries out to your flesh,
Igniting a spark of eternal prosperity
with every vision of Hope.